The Half-Blood Witch
by Banana Flavored Eskimo
Summary: Re-posted due to plagiarism. Hermione has always been different. Now she understands why. (final pairing still undecided...)
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

 **By: Banana Flavored Eskimo**

 **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and Percy Jackson and the Olympians do not belong to me.

* * *

Her riotous curls danced around her small frame.

He grinned widely, showcasing a large gap in his smile where he had just lost his two front teeth.

She was an incredibly petite girl whose large unruly curls practically dwarfed her head and swallowed her shoulders. With a bright sunny smile and dazzling honey eyes, he thought she was beautiful.

He had always been somewhat skinny for his age. With his worn sneakers – a favourite that he refused to replace no matter how much his mother prodded – and piercing sea-green eyes that stood out from dark tresses, he was sure to break hearts when he grew older.

"Percy! That's completely unfair!"

His grin – despite the missing teeth – was infectious as he gazed at the younger girl who was currently standing beneath the tree he had climbed rather easily. Raising his free hand that was not clutching at a branch, he looked at the cover of the paperback book he had taken from her grasp.

"I don't think so Hermione," he said with a strong American accent. "Besides, what's so interesting about," his eyes crossed as he found the words beginning to jumble before his vision, "The Giver anyways?" he finished after finally being able to make out the title.

Hermione frowned at the foreign boy. "It's a class assignment and it takes me a bit longer to read than others," she admitted somewhat shamefully.

It was true. Most people – even her parents – assumed that she was simply a bookworm. Although she did love to read books, she was also horribly challenged by the task.

The words always seemed to scramble before her very eyes, making the task of reading incredibly difficult. She didn't do her homework weeks ahead of time because she wanted to. She did it out of necessity. It took her ages to read through one assignment properly.

Percy frowned as he made an easy jump from twice his height.

Hermione gasped as she watched him land gracefully upon the ground before her with the ease of a feline. No matter how many amazing things Percy did, he always continued to impress her.

She shook her head. Then again, she wasn't without her odd moment or two.

"Hermione? I have trouble reading too."

Large eyes rounded. "You do?"

"Yea," started Percy as he scuffed his worn sneaker against the grass, suddenly nervous. "The letters get all mixed up and it's hard for me to read. My mom says I have dyslexia."

"I get that way too. Do you think I have dyslexia too?"

"You?" questioned Percy with obvious incredulity. "You read like a dozen books a day! How could you be dyslexic?"

Hermione sighed. "I don't read a dozen books a day. Besides, I read so much because I hope it will get easier the more I practice. It doesn't," she finished miserably.

The young boy frowned at his friend. Although they had only known one another a short time, he had grown to really like her. He never had many friends and Hermione was a sweet girl.

"Hermione. Maybe you should tell your mom and dad about it."

"I don't want them to think I'm stranger than I already am," she protested.

It was true and even Percy knew that. He supposed it was because he too was prone to his bouts of weirdness, although Hermione took it to another level. He always had an affinity for water and liked to swim and bathe for hours on end.

Hermione tended to make things explode. It also coincided with her temper. If she was in a right mood, the ground beneath her feet would tremble and things would go up in a brilliant flame. He'd also witnessed her levitate once.

She had fallen over a rock and before he had time to reach out and steady her decent, she had paused a good few inches from the ground and was literally suspended in the air.

Percy had thought it was cool.

Hermione had been terrified that she was even more of a freak than her classmates had been proclaiming her to be.

Percy beat them up.

His mom hadn't been pleased when a few other parents had complained about a vacationing hoodlum from across the pond, but he could care less. Hermione was his friend and he'd defend her. Besides, when his mom learned that he had been defending her, she wasn't all that angry anymore. If anything, she looked rather proud.

Hermione had stuck to him like glue after that particular incident and their entire summer was filled with the two of them playing with one another.

"You're not strange Mya," he said without missing a beat. "You're my friend."

Hermione smiled softly at him. Mya. Only he ever called her that. When she asked why, he said that Hermione was just a mouthful. Mya was short and sweet, like her.

Percy always knew just what to say to ease her troubles. "Thank you Percy. You're my friend too and you'll always be my very first."

A furious blush played across his fair skin. When she smiled like that, he found he liked it and wanted to do everything to ensure she continue doing so. Why? He hadn't a clue, but he didn't dwell on it too much. All he knew was that he liked her smile and that was that.

"Percy? Your mother is here. It's time for you to head back to the B&B."

Percy made a face. The Bed & Breakfast they were staying in during their vacation was nice, but it was two blocks away from Hermione's place and he didn't want to leave yet.

"Mum? Can Percy and Ms. Jackson stay for dinner tonight? He'll be leaving in a week and I want to spend time with him."

Jean Granger shared a smile with Sally Jackson as they watched their two children stare at them with large hopeful eyes. How could they possibly say no to that?

"Of course they can," replied Jean with a wide smile.

Percy grinned as he grabbed Hermione's hand with his free one, the other still clutching her copy of The Giver in his other. "C'mon Mya! Let's go play by the pond near the Robinson's house.

"Be careful children! You watch out for Hermione Percy!"

"Always mom!"

* * *

Tears streamed down her face as she looked at the elder boy in sorrow. He was leaving. He was leaving back for the United States and she wasn't sure if she'd ever see him again.

She didn't care if she stained his shirt with tears. She needed to hug him.

Throwing herself into his arms, she sobbed softly into his red t-shirt.

Percy tried to hold back his own tears, but soon found them streaking down his own face. "Mya," he said softly.

"Percy! Don't go. Don't leave me. You're the only friend I have," she protested weakly.

"Mya, you know I have to. I can't leave my mom."

Hermione sobbed harder at his words because she knew it was true. Percy couldn't leave his mother just as she couldn't leave her parents.

Reaching up, she cupped his face in her hands and stared at him determinedly. "You listen here Percy Jackson," she started of in a strong voice despite the fact she was feeling anything but. "No matter where you go or for how long, you'll always be my friend."

Percy smiled at her fierce proclamation. If there was one thing he learned about Hermione Granger it was that once she set her mind to it, nothing would stand in her way.

"No matter what happens Hermione Granger, I'll always be your friend," he returned.

She nodded her head and boldly placed a chaste kiss upon his cheek.

Percy blushed several shades of red, deaf to the soft chuckles of the adults behind him. "Her-um, Mya?" he questioned somewhat intelligibly.

"Ten years. In ten years I'm going to find you and we'll meet again," she continued somewhat bossily.

"Why ten years?"

"Because by then I'll be eighteen and an adult. Then I can go anywhere I want and then you and I will be together," she stated in a no nonsense tone.

Percy wasn't put off by her bossy tone. In fact, he thought it was kind of cute that someone as small as Hermione was so bold. Besides, she just basically promised to see him again no matter what.

"Not if I find you first."

Hermione shook her head as she practically jumped in his arms.

Percy would have lost his balance had he not been half expecting the move. He simply caught her slight weight and held her close to him as he buried his nose in her wild curls. "No matter what Mya, I'll always be your friend."

"And you'll always be mine," she vowed.

* * *

 **AN:** So this popped into my head after watching Percy  Jackson and the Lightening Thief and an episode of Psych. How those two were able to meld and inspire me? I don't know either.

So what did you think?

I would like to state the fact that I have NEVER read Percy Jackson and the Olympians. I wish I had, but I'm in Korea and I can't find a copy in English and I'm not at that level of comprehension yet.

Therefore, I'm relying heavily upon the internet and the movie. As far as descriptions/style of talk goes, I will be going by the movie. Obviously ages are going to be off seeing as book Percy was born in the 80's and Hermione in the 70's.

As far as Harry Potter goes, it's EWE. However, I may not follow the Harry Potter series completely because I want the war to be more graphic.

Should you have any ideas/suggestions and/or comments then please feel free to message me. I'm always open to them.

\- Banana Flavored Eskimo


	2. Chapter 01

**01**

 **By:** Banana Flavored Eskimo

* * *

Her back bowed harshly as his fingers buried themselves into her thick curls as he pulled her head back towards his body.

His hot breath raced along her heated skin as she felt his tongue drag across her sweat slickened flesh. "You taste sweet poppet."

The young witch cringed as struggled to break free from his unrelenting grasp.

"Now, now poppet. Stop squirming. You're encouraging me," he hissed as he crudely ground his hips into the curve of her lower back.

She shuddered as her teeth clenched with disgust. "Filthy bastard."

"Dolohov, release her."

Antonin Dolohov looked incredibly reluctant to release the young woman in his grasp, his hips continuing to make slow lazy circles against her lush curves. However, the piercing gaze from his Lord cooled his ardour as he pushed his captive to the ground harshly.

She gasped as she fell to her knees upon the soft wet soil.

"At least she knows her place," came a crude jeer from the gathered crowd.

A long bony finger gently tilted her head upwards to meet his reddened gaze. "Dear sweet girl. You have grown," came a pleased hiss.

She jerked from his touch.

That was not the action to take, for his eyes took on a menacing gleam as he practically pulled her small form from the ground and into his arms. Curling his fingers around her throat, he tightened his grasp slowly.

She gasped and chocked for air, her hands clawing at his arms in a vain attempt to remove his hold.

"Such power encased in such an unworthy vessel," he whispered slowly as his forked tongue danced across her temple.

Her vision began to swim as she felt her body begin to tremble.

"Tell me Hermione. How did a filthy little creature such as yourself become so gifted?"

With that question, he dropped her body to the ground and watched her petite frame crumple to the ground in disgust.

"You're weak. You're unworthy and yet you hold so much within you," he sneered hatefully.

Hermione coughed drawing in gasping breaths as she struggled to gain her breath.

"Careful there Thomas. You almost sound jealous," she panted defiantly. She refused to show him her fear.

Lord Voldermort became livid, his wand making a harsh slashing motion through the air. " _Crucio_."

Her back arched from the ground as her arms clawed helplessly at the dirt beneath her and dug into the rich soil. A struggled gasp escaped her lips before she pressed her mouth closed to keep from screaming. She would not give him the satisfaction.

She remembered the pain well. The unrelenting agony that raced through her entire being was multiplied by ten as the master of the Dark Arts subjected her to his merciless curse.

Bellatrix had indeed learned the curse well from her Lord, but she had absolutely nothing on him. The pain he inflicted was unimaginable.

Voldermort laughed at her strength. He both admired and hated that little muggle filth at his feet. To think that the brightest mind of the age was encased within that tiny slip of a witch before him.

"I'm not sure whether to be angry or impressed Miss Granger. Two minutes under my wand and you have yet to make even a sound. Two seconds and even my strongest Death Eaters are begging for mercy," he commented off-handedly as if he were speaking of the weather.

The witch let out a long breath as she felt the curse lift.

Reddened eyes merely regarded the small witch before him curiously. She was certainly interesting.

"Tell me pet. Where is Potter? Surely he must be nearby. He wouldn't leave his little muggle filth alone for too long."

Hermione continued to pant, her heart beating furiously from the after-effects of being _Crucioed_.

Voldermort merely smirked at her accelerated breathing. "Perhaps you'll need an incentive?"

"LET ME GO! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!"

Her body jerked to the side, the movement causing a low hiss of pain to escape her lips.

Honeyed eyes widened with horror as she took in her bound mother being restrained by a mocking Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Shhh now mother muggle filth. You'll make too much noise and disturb my Lord," the dark haired witch crooned softly with a crazed smile.

"She doesn't know anything," gasped Hermione, turning her attention to the snake like features of the Dark Lord.

"An impressive spell pet. Even after I placed your father under the _Imperius_ curse and delved into his weak little mind, I couldn't find a trace of his true past."

Hermione took in a deep shuddering breath. "Where is my father?"

"What use was he? He knew nothing. Your mother, on the other hand, seemed to have an interesting bit of resistance to dark curses…"

The young witch struggled to push her body from the floor, but her arms trembled under her weight and she crumpled helplessly to the ground much to the amusement of many present.

Her father.

Her father was dead and now he was holding her mother hostage.

"Leave my mother alone."

Voldermort merely shook his head. "Pet, must we play this game? It's rather simple really. You give me Potter. I give you your mother."

"I give you Harry, you kill my mother and I anyways."

"PLEASE LET ME GO!"

"Your mother cries out for you mudblood," Bellatrix sang softly as her nails raked along the elder woman's throat leaving red welts in their path.

The muggle woman trembled in the arms of her captor, her hazel eyes raking over the weak figure laying at the feet of whom this crazy woman called Lord.

He was a grotesque mockery of a man with red eyes and snake like features. His thin lips pulled back into a feral snarl as he gazed at the fallen young woman at his feet.

Jean Grant was not sure why, but there was something hauntingly familiar about this young stranger. Something within her wanted to reach out and protect this small young woman from harm.

It was odd. Jean did not have children of her own – she couldn't have children of her own. However, she felt her inherent maternal instincts rear up to shield this child from danger.

Jean wasn't stupid. She knew she was going to die, but she refused to allow them to hurt this unknown girl further. The thought of this young woman's death caused a dull ache to race through her body.

Hermione stared up into his unrelenting gaze. "She knows nothing! Leave her be. Please leave her be."

"Give me Potter."

"I can't give you Harry. I don't know where he is."

She jerked forwards as she felt his power coil around her body and bring her level with his tall frame.

"You test my patience pet. Give me Potter."

"I don't know where Harry is!"

"LEAVE HER ALONE!"

The duo turned their attention to the yell in time to witness the muggle woman throw her head back and deliver a painful head butt to a now howling Bellatrix Lestrange.

The reactions were instantaneous as Hermione felt his magic release her in his shock and she shot towards her mother with newfound strength.

Bellatrix cradled her bloodied jaw, the bruise upon her chin swelling horribly. She hissed as she sent a curse towards the muggle filth that dared to harm her.

" _CRUCIO_!"

Jean collapsed to the ground, her body shaking in agony.

Hermione let out a scream of rage as she tackled the psychotic Death Eater that held her mother under a curse.

" _Avada Kedavra_."

The calm whisper of the killing curse echoed throughout the area as all activity ceased.

The curly haired witch felt her body go slack as she watched her mother's warm hazel eyes drain of all life.

A harsh pull upon her hair and her head was wrenched towards the imposing figure of the Dark Lord.

"You heartless bastard!" she growled with rage.

"You pushed my hand pet. I-"

"Stop calling me that! I'm not your anything you psychotic megalomaniac!"

Bellatrix screeched upon hearing the slander as she gave another harsh tug upon the thick curls entangled in her grasp. "You dare speak to the Dark Lord in such a manner?!"

"Lord? He is no Lord," Hermione began lowly. "He's simply a pathetic man who fears death."

" _Crucio_."

The curse came from Voldermort himself as his reddened gaze seemed to burn with unrestrained hatred as he held the young woman under the painful spell.

Hermione felt her breath leave her body as Bellatrix released the grip she had on her hair and let the small witch fall to the ground. She cackled with delight as she watched her Lord and Master curse the filthy piece of trash that dared to speak to him so crassly.

The pain seared through her body as she felt an agonizing pulse begin to slowly tear the tendrils of her mind apart.

She rolled under the pressure as she fought the curse.

Her body began to tremble as the earth beneath her shuddered and quaked.

Voldermort lifted the curse, his scarlet gaze sweeping the soil beneath him.

Dark cloaked figures began to fall to the ground as the tremors increased with each passing moment.

Bellatrix let out a low hiss as she stared at the convulsing mudblood. "She's doing this my Lord!"

Voldermort snarled at the young witch as her hands seemed to claw at the ground beneath her and a long wrought out scream emanated from her throat. Just what was she doing and how?

She had no wand and after the several boughts of _Crucio_ she had been inflicted with, she should have been broken by now. Yet, she continued to toss upon the ground as the tremors beneath his feet got more and more violent.

A piercing scream caught his attention as the ground opened beneath a cloaked figure, hellfire spewing from the newly opened crevice.

His followers began to struggle in vain, all attempts at _apparition_ futile within the area. Something was hindering them.

He found he could no _apparate_ himself.

Something was hindering him.

Her.

He watched with morbid fascination as the floor beneath him disappeared, an endless cyclone of fire lapping at his ankles as it blazed a trail across his scaled skin. His reddened gaze went to the shuddering form of one Hermione Granger.

His last thought before he fell into the raging inferno of Hell was that he had underestimated this muggle filth and now she was his damnation.

The same fate followed the remaining Death Eaters as they too met the same fiery fate as their Lord.

During the entire ordeal, Hermione continued to scream and quiver upon the ground, trapped in her own personal war with herself.

* * *

The shift was palpable as the very air upon Olympus seemed to pulse with change.

Zeus – almighty King of the Gods – stood from his seat, his bellow of rage accompanied by darkening clouds and bolts of lightening raining down upon the Earth.

"HADES!"

* * *

He knew something was wrong due to the influx of souls that had plummeted straight to Tartarus.

For such a feat to be accomplished was unheard of. New souls were all judged upon entrance to his dominion by the three judges: Rhadamanthus, Minos, Aeacus, himself and at times, Persephone – when she chose to. It was only fair for all to be weighed justly so that both punishments and rewards could be decided upon.

However, that had not been the case with the last dozen or so souls. They had all plunged to the deepest depths of Tartarus, their eternity to burn forever in the fires of their sins.

As God of the Dead, it was his task to see what had upset the balance in his dominion. Only two beings had such powers: himself and the only other that did was currently in his study reading.

His lips pulled into a slight frown. Nico knew better than to tip the balance, so it could not have been him.

"My Lord Hades."

"Tisiphone."

Leathery wings curled around her toned body as deep red eyes stared at her Lord and Master. "My Lord, the Keres have found the source of the disturbance."

Hades regarded the Fury casually, his obsidian gaze taking in her bowed head of ash curls and snarls. "I was not aware that the Keres were sent out to find a disturbance."

"My Lord, it is a child."

Hades went still as he felt electric energy of his brother fill the air.

"HADES."

He let out a gasp as he disappeared with a deafening crack.

* * *

Her body shivered as deep honeyed eyes gazed unseeingly into the heavens above her.

The skies churned as clouds began to gather in the darkened sky, shielding the moon and plunging the land into darkness.

However, she saw none of this as her body continued to spasm uncontrollably.

A soft whimper at her side and the nudge of a wet snout went unanswered as the hellish canine whimpered beside the fallen young woman.

"Return beast."

A sharp bark answered the dark God's call as the hound disappeared in a flurry of flames.

He cast a saddened glace at the broken body of the elder woman only a few feet away from him. With a simple wave of his hand, she disappeared from sight.

What had happened?

The dark hovering figure pulled her small frame into his strong embrace. He smoothed out her damp curls as a gloved hand traced her fair skin. "Rest Hermione. I have you now."

* * *

 **AN:** Enough drama for you all? I know I left you with questions, but they'll be answered.

Alright. So due to the fact that I haven't read Percy Jackson and the Olympians, I am solely relying on the Internet when it comes to the series. Therefore, don't expect me to cling strictly to the book.

I HAVE seen the movie, but now that I make comparisons, I'm finding that I'm actually liking book characterizations better. Therefore, there might be a combined effort between the two.

I'm also going to be adding touches from actual Greek Mythology, so there's going to be a bit of learning in this fic children. Lol.

The timeline for everything is warped, so don't even bother trying to place it somewhere. Let's just say that this takes place sometime during the seventh book for Harry Potter and after The Last Olympian in the books. I also WILL change ages, so don't even bother with that. It's fanfiction people. I do as I please, therefore no reviews about accuracy.

For those who aren't familiar with Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Nico is a son of Hades. He will be playing an integral role to the entire story. Google him.

The Keres are basically the hounds of Hades, not be to mistaken with Cerberus. Google them too.

Yay for Google!

Review?

Banana Flavored Eskimo


	3. Chapter 02

**02**

 **By: Banana Flavored Eskimo**

* * *

She hummed a gentle tune as she pulled her long dark hair into an intricate plait. Deep honeyed eyes stared placidly at her reflection in the bejewelled golden mirror as a soft smile flittered across her delicate features.

She was disturbed from her peace as the doors to the chambers burst open to reveal her husband carrying an unconscious young woman.

Her lips pulled into a frown upon seeing him lay the woman – who was only little more than a child- upon their bed.

In all her years with Hades, he had never brought home any of his dalliances. In fact, he never dallied with anyone during her stay in the Underworld. Therefore, it pained her to see her husband lovingly caress this mystery woman's face with a gentleness he had only shown with her.

Had he finally found one that could possibly replace her?

"My Lord?" she asked tentatively, a slight quiver in her voice.

Deep obsidian eyes took in his wife. She was his exact opposite. Where he was death, Persephone was life. However, upon seeing her distraught expression, his heart clenched. She was one of his few weaknesses.

"My Queen, what troubles you?"

"My Lord? Who is she?"

A dark brow rose at the question. Surely she didn't think he could find any other to take her place within his soul? Persephone was his match in every way and he knew that in all eternity, he would never find another like her. Yet, it seemed that she was unsure of her place at his side. Well, he would reassure his Queen.

"Come love," he beckoned, his hand outstretched before him. "Do you not recognize her?"

Persephone took a tentative step towards their bed, her eyes taking in the petite figure laying upon the ebony sheets of silk.

A gasp escaped her soft lips. "Hermione?"

"Hermione," echoed Hades, his hand – now free of his leather gloves – once again tracing her features with an awed sense of reverence.

"My Lord. Does Zeus know?"

Hades lips set into a harsh line. "No and it will remain that way."

* * *

"Father?"

The meticulous scratching of his pen did not cease as Hades continued to pursue the mountain of paperwork before him. Despite being a God, even he was not exempt from mundane work such as this.

"What is it Nico."

"Who is she?"

Obsidian eyes rose to meet that of his son.

He had grown much during his time here. Kronos – his father – ruled over Elysian and as such fell under his reign. Hades had come to respect the elder Titan despite their tumultuous past and in turn, he manipulated time in the Underworld to pass differently than that up above.

What seemed like decades below, would only be an instance above. It was something he had yet to inform any of the other Gods and Goddesses upon Olympus and he had no desire to.

It meant he could spend years with Persephone before she'd need to leave the Underworld. When she left, time would return to normal speed and match that of the above world.

He had once thought of asking Kronos to make time pass quickly so that he would only be parted from his wife for merely a moment, but even he knew of the restrictions of time and doing so would upset the souls that would be passing into his realm.

It was during this manipulated time that Nico grew and flourished. Once a weakened boy, he was now a formidable man.

Nico had always been a rather beautiful child, but with age he had grown into his looks and held a dark and ominous allure any being would be envious of. However, unlike the vein offspring of Aphrodite or the boasting brutes of Ares, Nico was the perfect blend of charm and cunning.

His mind was his greatest asset and coupled with his advanced training with a sharp blade created from Stygian iron, Nico was definitely a force to be reckoned with. He was positive not even Poseidon's precious prat Percy could match his son Nico.

Now as he stared at the tall and imposing figure of his son, he found himself on the receiving end of his tempered curiosity.

"Excuse me?"

"The girl. The one you took to your bedroom who isn't your wife?" he asked rather easily with a sly smirk upon his face.

It was a valid question. If anyone else deserved to know of her presence here, it was Nico.

"Her name is Hermione."

"Your mistress?"

Hades raised a brow at the jab, a similar smirk playing across his lips.

"Your sister."

* * *

It was late and she had been moved into the room next to his. He had snuck in and had spent the past fifteen minutes simply staring at her.

Nico was unsure why she was here. Just a few hours ago, he was under the impression that he was an only child. However, that was proven wrong.

Hades had broken the again, his brothers had not kept their words either. Percy and Thalia were proof of that.

Whatever the case may be, Hades apparently had a child that he had hidden from the world. Nico wasn't sure what kind of person she was, but he had come to one startling realization.

She was beautiful.

Even when unconscious she seemed to glow with the vivacity of life. Was this the feeling that father had felt when he first glanced at the enchanting Persephone?

He would not know. Since his time spent away from camp Half-Blood, he found refuge in his father's dominion. Here, nobody questioned him and he was able to grow and hone his skills.

However, he never came in contact with other living creatures – save the occasional immortal being, but he did not truly count their presence.

He had seen other women before, nymphs and goddesses alike –even the lovely Aphrodite herself and her demigod offspring, yet they did not stir his soul half as easily as this sleeping beauty did.

Now he was confronted with the presence of not only a beautiful young woman, but his half-sister.

She wasn't at all like Bianca. She had a certain softness to her and by the Gods, her hair! Her hair was a wild bundle of curls and waves that made him want to bury his hands into the thick mass. She was also rather petite. Petite, yet in possession of the lush curves that drew his eyes to her womanly shape.

Hermione was a much welcomed addition to the house of Lord Hades.

Nico knew that whatever happened, she was his responsibility now. Physically, they may be of the same age. Chronologically, he was decades older and as such that made him her big brother.

He never had a younger sibling before, but he supposed the fierce sense to protect her was normal amongst most siblings – especially elder brothers and younger sisters.

Come what may, he would keep her safe from now on.

* * *

 **AN:** Getting into the bulk of the story and not much has changed from the original.

I would also like to thank everyone for their support. The author has removed "their story."

In happier RL news, I have more free time and since it's summer season I plan on writing more - when I'm not at festivals.

Time/age manipulation! Older Nico ftw!

Nico is around 19~20 years of age.

Hermione is technically 19 due to the additional use of the time turner, but her birthdate suggests she is only 18.

Questions? Comments? Violent Reactions?

\- Banana Flavored Eskimo


	4. Chapter 03

**03**

 **Banana Flavored Eskimo**

* * *

Her vision swam before her eyes as she fought the urge to focus. Colors mixed together as consciousness came forth. Her body protested the movements, her mind wanting to stay in the deepest recesses of sleep, but she fought on.

Urging her eyes to open, a low moan escaped her lips.

"Easy child. You exhausted yourself."

Her brow crinkled as she tried to place the voice. It was a low long baritone that caressed each syllable in a sweet embrace. It commanded and lulled at the same time, a feat not so easily accomplished. She did not know the owner of that voice. Surely she would have remembered such an amazing voice.

"Hermione? Can you hear us dear rose?"

This was spoken in a light tone, the pitch like the tinkling of bells. It was said in an airy sort of way, as if the words blew with the breeze. Yet, despite the bright tone, it offered comfort and warmth. She wanted to bask in that voice and never leave the light.

"Hermione. Focus. Look at me."

She could not deny such a request from that low voice. Frowning, she concentrated on regaining her focus upon her surroundings and immediately found herself looking upon the most intense set of eyes she had ever encountered.

Those deep orbs of obsidian bored into the depths of her soul, yet she found herself oddly at ease on the receiving end of such a powerful stare. Against her better judgement, her hand reached out on its own accord and gently traced the bridge of his nose.

Shock was something that many Gods – most of all the mighty Hades himself – rarely felt. However, when his daughter reached out her hand to run her fingertips down the slope of his nose, his only response was absolute stillness.

He did not move as she continued her curious exploration.

Persephone smiled as she watched the precocious young woman trace the features of her sire with a curious sort of reverence. She knew that she was still somewhat unstable from the amount of energy she had exerted earlier, so she was most likely not truly aware of her actions. The Goddess knew that had the witch been in complete control of her mind, she would have never been so forward with a stranger. Most likely, she and her husband would be on the receiving end of her wand.

"Your nose is like mine."

Hades knew that then and there he was lost. With such a simple proclamation from his already adult daughter, he knew that he was hers. Whatever she'd ask, he knew he would not be able to deny.

What would his brothers say if they knew how easily this slip of a girl was able to wrap him around her finger?

"My Lord. She's not all there yet."

Hades sighed as he chanced a glance at his wife, Hermione now coiling her fingers through his ebony tresses.

Turning his attention to his daughter, he saw the slightly glazed expression in her eyes. No, she was not completely right as of yet. The energy she expended coupled with the breaking of the seal proved too much for her – both mentally and physically.

She still needed time to adjust and rest. As much as he wished to get to know his daughter, the Lord of the dead knew that she needed to sleep first.

"Hermione. Sleep child. Let Morpheus bless you with pleasant dreams and come back to us when you're whole."

The brunette witch merely cocked her head to the side silently before her eyes grew heavy with sleep. Yawning, her world faded to darkness once again.

* * *

"You adore her."

"She has your eyes."

Persephone smiled at her husband as a feeling of absolute completeness washed over the duo.

Settling down beside the slumbering brunette, she gently ran her fingers through her wild curls. "She grows so quickly. Seems as if only yesterday she was running about and picking flowers from her neighbors garden."

"She never did get caught," Hades commented easily with a trace of pride.

"She's much too smart," replied the Goddess with a fond grin.

"Father? Persephone?"

Persephone sighed as she watched Nico stand patiently in the doorway, waiting confirmation to enter the room.

She liked Nico, honestly she did. She just didn't like what he reminded her of.

Nico wasn't hers. He belonged to Hades.

Despite the fact that she knew Hades loved her, he held an affection for Nico's mother that left her feeling somewhat awkward and betrayed.

Her Lord never picked women based off of care or lust. He actually picked women he knew to be healthy and of good standing. Whenever he lay with another, it was for the sole purpose of procreation, nothing more and nothing less. Yet, with Nico's mother there had been something more. It may not have measured up to his feelings for her, but it was there. He did have two children with that woman after all.

However, despite the unwanted tension she felt whenever she initially caught sight of Nico, she learned to temper her emotions with calm and accept the young boy as part of their small family. She would not be his mother. She would never dare take that place and Nico would never allow her to, but she could be a mentor of sorts. He did prove to be quite interested in literature and other forms of music – something she enjoyed immensely and Hades held in mild indifference.

"Nico, enter."

Persephone noted that he bowed slightly at the waist at the acknowledgement, years of etiquette ingrained into every movement.

"Nico. What brings you here so late in the evening?"

"Is she alright?"

Hades merely regarded his eldest carefully. "She exerted a large amount of energy this evening."

"She damned a number of souls to Tartarus," Nico replied matter-of-factly.

Hades cleared his throat at the statement. "Yes, well that wasn't intentional on her part, but I believe deserved. The souls she damned attempted to kill her."

Persephone gasped.

Nico went still. "Excuse me?"

The dark God set his lips into a firm line. "Your sister is unique. She is what mortals call a Witch."

Nico drew in a long breath, his mouth drawing into a concentrated frown. He knew all about witches. He had read about them in his father's expansive library. Their world was hidden from those not gifted with magic.

They grew and flourished in their secret communities with their own set of laws, governance and currency. It was actually quite fascinating to him.

To learn that his newly revealed half-sister was actually a magic user was certainly interesting. He was most correct in his initial assumption about her being a fine addition to the house of Lord Hades.

The power of their father coupled with that of magic was a potent gift indeed. She would be amazing.

"Witch and demigod."

Persephone sighed as she watched that excited glint take in Nico's dark eyes. She hoped he wouldn't fall prey to the lure of power.

The Goddess frowned at her train of thoughts. No, not Nico. She and Hades had taught him well. As a son of the Lord of the Dead, it was important that he understood the precious balance between life and death. Nico knew that lesson well and respected it. He was most likely excited about the possibilities Hermione represented. If there was one thing that hadn't changed, it was Nico's insatiable curiosity.

Hades merely nodded his head at his son's words. "She will need time to adjust. It is only now that she came into her godly powers."

"Father? How can that be?"

"I sealed her."

Nico frowned. Sealing away powers was an incredibly risky task. Not only would it hinder the person being sealed, but would essentially leave them vulnerable and confused in some areas. In the case of Hermione, she wasn't able to tap into the powers that flowed naturally through her blood. With their father being the God of the Underworld, Hermione would have most likely felt the pull of souls around her, yet not able to address them properly.

Despite what many mortals believed, ghosts were very much real. In addition, she may have had a bit of trouble when it came to feeling extreme emotions. With her blood sealed, her magic may have been unstable and it would have taken even more effort and discipline to keep controlled. He wasn't sure exactly what the young witch felt and wouldn't be entirely sure until she woke up and told them – if she was inclined. He hoped she was. He was very curious now.

"Hermione needed to be hidden. She was not a child that I wished to claim. I only wanted to watch her grow and flourish from afar."

"We," Persephone cut in, "only wanted to watch her from a distance."

Nico raised a dark brow at the Goddess' interjection. It was no secret that she still was somewhat uncomfortable whenever his mother was mentioned and she could still be weary of his presence every now and again. Therefore, for her to be so welcoming about Hermione was a puzzle to him.

"You knew about Hermione?"

"She's mine."

Had he been anyone else, his jaw would have dropped open at her words. However, he had been trained to keep his emotions better concealed than that. Therefore, his only noticeable reaction was the widening of his eyes and somewhat stunned expression.

"I beg your pardon?" questioned Nico wondering if he had misheard. Surely not.

Hades smirked. Persephone did that on purpose. She knew it would result in that look and she had a dark streak in her and enjoyed displaying it every now and again. How he loved that side of his Queen.

"Nico. What she says is true and yet it's so much more than that."

Persephone nodded her head. "I wanted a child."

"Father can not sire children in the Underwold," replied Nico automatically.

This was true. It was not possible to give life in the land of the dead – God or otherwise.

"I could not deny her," said Hades as he cast a fond look at his Queen.

Suddenly, Nico understood.

"You visited her aboveground," he stated more than asked.

Persephone smiled serenely, recalling the evening that led to Hermione's conception.

"I yearned for a child and Hades admitted the desire to create life."

Nico nodded his head. As Lord of the Dead, his father ruled over those that went on. There was no life in his world, only death. Therefore, the idea of creating life – instead of taking it – held special significance with the dark God.

"Demeter would flay me if she learned I was visiting her daughter outside our allotted time."

The young man snorted. That was a vast understatement. The Goddess of the Harvest could be quite vindictive when in the mood – especially when it came to her precious Persephone.

"I was able to steal into the mortal world and take temporary residence inside a mortal woman by the name of Jean Granger. She desired children, but was not able to conceive. She was barren," said Persephone sadly as her hands returned to weaving their way through Hermione's curly mane.

"I lay with Persephone while she was still in control of the body and your sister was conceived."

Persephone sighed. "Jean was none the wiser. She had thought it a miracle that she was blessed with a child. She and her husband rejoiced. Hermione may not be mine biologically, but spiritually I am her mother."

"Hermione was born and it was only when I realized that the occurrences that were happening to her were not due to her being a half-god, did I seal her blood," said Hades.

"We checked in on her every now and then," chimed Persephone. "However, it has grown few and far between the older she got. The more time she spent in the wizarding world, the harder it was for us to visit."

Nico nodded his head in acceptance. Wizards were VERY aware of demigods and Gods and although they were accepted, magical folks also coveted them in hopes of sharing their powers and gaining favor. With a magical beings' natural ability to sense power around them, even the weakest would be able to sense the power of a God or Goddess. There could be no hiding when it came to them.

Persephone sighed. "The last time I saw Hermione, it was from a wide angle zoom lens in London. She was only fourteen then. She's grown so much."

"She's beautiful," said Hades with a rare soft smile.

"Will you tell the other Gods and Goddesses of Hermione?"

Hades gaze grew dark. "They will learn should I deem fit. Yet no matter the outcome, she is ours."

"Come now gentlemen. Let's leave my rose to rest."

Nico smiled slightly at the nickname. Trust Persephone to give her daughter the name of a flower. However, he supposed it fit. Hermione was most definitely a rose. An English rose. An English rose that he would care for dearly.

Yes, Hermione would blossom quite magnificently.

* * *

 **AN:** Hahahahaha! Explanations done! Well, a few of the anyways.

So were you expecting that bit of a curveball? I know. It surprised me too.

For those who are still a bit confused, let's break it down easily. Hermione is the daughter of Hades. Persephone wanted a child so she took control of Jean Granger's body. She and Hades did the horizontal mambo and nine months later, Hermione is born. Make no mistake. Jean is Hermione's biological mother. However, spiritually Persephone is her mother.

No, this does not make Hermione a full Goddes, yet she is much more than a demigod (as we will later discover) Physically, Hermione takes more after her mortal mother, but there are definitely some physical characteristics she shares with both Hades and Persephone (ie: Hades' nose and Persephone's eyes.)

Review?

\- Banana Flavored Eskimo


	5. Chapter 04

**04**

 **By: Banana Flavored Eskimo**

* * *

Her body jerked erratically as the vestiges of her night terror caused her lips to pull back. A hoarse scream was wrenched from her throat.

Persephone leaned over the thrashing woman, her honeyed eyes alit with panic as she watched the young woman continue to struggle frantically. Clamping her wrists down tightly against the bedding, the Goddess let out a surprised cry at the strength she exhibited as she had almost lost her grip.

"Hades! HADES!"

Alerted by the sheer alarm fulfilling his wife's voice, the God of the Underworld appeared in the darkened chamber. Obsidian orbs widened considerably as he rushed to aide his struggling wife with holding down the still erratic young woman.

He could have easily bound her, but he didn't wish to harm her any more than she already was.

Bruises and scars littered her sun kissed skin and caused the dark God to mourn at the sight. His daughter was battered and broken in so many ways and he had not been there to comfort her.

As God of the Underworld, his was a job that was never complete.

Her cries continued to raise in volume as her thrashing continued on.

Nico watched as his father and Persephone continued to calm Hermione's to keep her from harming herself.

Three days. Three days of this continual dance of struggle and restraint. It was beginning to become a twisted routine. Hermione would struggle and scream as if she were being ripped apart. Persephone would then hold down her arms while his father would pin her legs. The violent act would continue for a few minutes and then Hermione would break down into tears as her small frame shook in the embrace of both father and mother.

She'd drift off again and the cycle would begin anew at another time.

Throughout the entire ordeal, Nico would remain on a constant watch over the trio. As he watched the witch begin to sob brokenly in slumber, his heart clenched.

The depth of her pain was palpable. Just what had happened to her to cause such a traumatic and violent reaction?

Clenching his fist, Nico narrowed his eyes at the still shuddering form of his younger half-sibling. He wasn't sure what had happened aboveground, but he was going to find out.

* * *

His head seared with a burning pain as a dry scream escaped his throat. Clutching at his messy raven tresses, he dropped to his knees in agony.

"HARRY?!"

The voice began shout his name repeatedly as he rolled on the floor, his scar throbbing and raw.

"Harry mate! Harry! Can you hear me?"

Large hands cupped his forearms, shaking his body roughly. Harry let out a long hiss as the pain in his head began to fade.

"Bloody hell Ron, let go of me."

"Harry? Is it… Is it him?"

Cradling his head in his hands, Harry let out a jagged breath.

"It's gone."

Ron's face twisted into confusion. "Wha?"

"I can't feel him Ron," the young wizard whispered. "He's gone."

"He can't just bloody die!" Ron protested hotly.

Harry glared at his best friend, a growl escaping his lips. "What do you want me to say!? Ever since his resurrection fourth year, I've always felt the dark pull of his soul. Now, it's nothing!"

"How can that be? The prophecy-"

"Fuck the prophecy Ron! If Voldermort is dead, then who cares how it was accomplished!?"

The red head whirled frantically about, his wand trained all around him as if awaiting for the signalling pop of apparition.

Laughing dryly, Harry threw back his head in disbelief. "See? I say his name and nothing! The taboo is lifted! He's dead Ron! I know it! I can feel it," he continued on with a slightly hysterical gleam in his emerald green eyes.

Ron frowned. "Harry, it's just hard to believe."

"You think I don't know that Ron?" questioned the boy-who-lived with a tired slump of his shoulders. "I've been waiting years for this moment and now I realize that it's all over and done with and I didn't even have anything to do with it."

"Do you think it's for good?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure as hell going to make sure it is."

Ron's lips set into a grim line. "Where do we start?"

"How about with you telling me all about this Voldermort fellow?"

Both wizards turned around, jumping at the sound of a new voice. They watched wearily as a young man their age materialized from the shadows, his dark obsidian gaze boring into their own.

Wand trained steadily at the unknown person, Harry Potter narrowed his green eyes at the stranger. "Who are you?"

"Hermione's brother."

* * *

"My Lord?"

The God of the Underworld breathed a long drawn out sigh. His body felt heavy as he suddenly felt the weight of his years settling upon his shoulders.

Dark eyes gazed solemnly at the broken form of his daughter as she cried softly into the soft chiffon of Persephone's gown.

"My Lord. We must do something."

"Phobetor."

Honey eyes widened upon hearing the name. "My Lord. Surely you don't think to call for him."

"He is the God of nightmares my Queen."

"He is also a conniving scoundrel who will expect a favor in return," hissed the normally placid Goddess.

Hades frowned. "What other option is there?"

Persephone took a long steadying breath. "Should you enter his realm, you know as well as I that you have no power there."

"She suffers," was his only reply.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as her usually bright honeyed eyes dulled with fear. "He will make you suffer."

"Then that is a chance that I must take," whispered the God of the Underworld softly.

"Be safe my love and return to us soon?"

"Always."

* * *

 **AN:** I'm sorry for the short chapter, but this is all I was able to get out.

Phobetor is the God of Nightmares. He is the brother to Morpheus. There is another brother named Phantasos, who is in charge of fantasy like dreams that are unreal – neither good nor bad.

Since Phobetor isn't mentioned in the Percy Jackson series other than as the brother of Morpheus, I will be the one creating his personality. He will be… interesting to say the least.

Please take note that this story is obviously AU, so disregard books six and seven of the Harry Potter series.

Review?

\- Banana Flavored Eskimo


	6. Chapter 05

**05**

 **Banana Flavored Eskimo**

* * *

Harry brandished his wand threateningly at the intruder, his green eyes ablaze with fury. "Hermione is an only child."

"Yes, well up until three days ago I had been an only child as well yet here I am," replied Nico with a dark glare.

"Three days ago, Hermione was with us," growled Ron, his teeth bared aggressively. So help him, if he so much as looked at Hermione in a way he didn't like, he'd _Avada_ him himself – consequences be damned.

Nico let out a dry laugh, his obsidian gaze turning towards the night sky. "I had forgotten that time passes differently for mortals."

Harry was tired of his cryptic replies. He had just received one of the greatest highs of his life only to have it taken so ruthlessly away by this psychotic prat. He could care less who he was, but the moment the dark stranger mentioned Hermione all bets were off. As far as he knew, Hermione was currently nestled safely within the confines of Shell Cottage, pouring over tomes to help research strategies and spells to aide them in their quest to defeat Voldermort.

He and Ron had made absolutely sure that she was completely safe before they had ventured off on their own. She had been adamant at first, but realized that they were steadfast in their resolve and neither wizards would risk her. She was their everything. Despite what others may think and how they may twist their relationship into something more crude, he, Ron and Hermione knew that the three of them were a unit. They were three parts of a whole and needed one another to be complete.

It was due to this that he and Ron had decided to keep Hermione away from the physical battles as much as they could. They refused to lose her.

The stubborn little witch had not taken their decision lying down and what had ensued was the most intense screaming match between the three of them. It wasn't until the raven haired wizard had broken down and started to sob did she finally relent.

Harry could not remove the image of her lying so still upon the floor at the Department of Mysteries. He did not want that to happen again. He had tried to convince Ron to let him go off on his own, but the red head had just stated that he would follow him anyways, so it would be better to at least stick together rather than trail him apart.

Now, he and Ron stood together, their faces a mask of absolute steel as they gazed fiercely upon the unknown young man.

"Talk," Harry said through clenched teeth as his wand arm trembled with barely constrained rage. "Talk now."

Nico sneered at the duo in disdain.

Who were they to order him around?

He was the son of the great Lord Hades. He commanded the dead. With a simple wave of his hand, he could send these two spiralling into the deepest depths of Tartarus, but he would not.

Loathe he admit it, he admired their dedication to his sister. Nico was an excellent judge of character and the two before him were steadfast in their resolve to protect his sibling. He could not – in good conscious – punish them for that. However, he did not like how they talked about Hermione so easily as if she belonged to them. If anything Hermione was his. She was his by blood and he refused to lose her when he had just found her.

Nico eyed the stick of wood – a wand, his mind supplied – wearily. If these were truly Hermione's friends as he so believed, then she would be displeased if he harm them, no matter how tempting it may be.

"Hermione is suffering from nightmares."

Ron cast a careful glance over the dark male. There was something about this stranger that was just off.

Every fiber of his being craved to leave his presence, but he would not. He claimed to know Hermione – even went as far to say that he was her brother – and the red head refused to let something as trivial as nerves best him.

"You claim you're her brother, but we know that Hermione is an only child."

"I have no time for this, nor do I have to prove my claim," Nico hissed impatiently. "My sister is suffering. She thrashes helplessly, crying out as her limbs flail in every direction. If she is not restrained, she will hurt herself."

Emerald eyes darkened and within three long strides, the wizard was face to face with him. "Where is she?"

"If I take you, there is no guarantee that you can return."

Nico knew that was a blatant lie, but they did not need to know that. If they were truly Hermione's friends he had no doubt his father would see to it that they return to the surface world easily, but he wished to know the depths of their dedication to her.

Ron stepped towards them, his face grim. "Take us to her."

"She's in the Underworld. Are you sure you wish to go?"

"Take us," the two said in unison, their answer definite as they gave no thought to anything but their friends safety.

Perhaps they weren't bad after all. They may need to be educated in their proper place regarding Hermione, but he appreciated their dedication to her. For that, he could give them a modicum of respect. However, Nico would make sure they understood that Hermione did not belong to them anymore. He had already decided that Hermione was his and the bonds of blood were far stronger than anything they could possibly offer her.

* * *

Upon the edge of his realm rested the entrance to Demos Oneiroi, the land of dreams.

The dark God took in the towering gates of ivory and gold. Never before had he needed to visit so closely. Gods did not have nightmares, nor did they dream in general. Dreamscapes and night terrors were for mortals. Due to this, the other Gods had no reason to enter this domain – nor did they want to. To do so would result in being absolutely powerless, for the kingdom of Morpheus was a separate space of reality where even Zeus himself would be as vulnerable as any other mortal.

"What could the mighty Lord Hades possibly be here for I wonder?"

A whimsical voice floated about the silence surrounding him, lifting and falling with each inflection and tone.

"Phantasos," replied Hades in a smooth drawl.

"Don't look so excited cousin," trilled the ever changing voice, his entire form rolling from the darkness and into view.

A wry smile was painted across his thin pink lips as they twisted into a large grin, showcasing a row of ivory teeth. Phantasos had always been in possession of a lanky form, however with his body adorned in a colourful pattern of stripes it only served to make his already long limbs seem endless. Wiry curls of deep jade adorned his head as a large poets hat with a ridiculous ostrich feather swayed precariously atop his head.

He looked absolutely ludicrous. Hades was not impressed.

Phantasos had always been an eccentric fellow and always would be. As the God of fantasy like dreams, he was forever in playful mood as the most bizarre things played out in his dreamscape of absolute nonsense.

"If there is a chicken atop a scroll, do you suppose that the egg it lays will be a tasty little morsel for my pink gazelle?"

The dark God scowled at his words. He had no time for such inane drivel.

"I must see Phoebetar."

"Goodness me and all of my ice cream flavored socks!"

"Phantasos …" Hades bit out as he glared baefully at the flighty God. He had long ago given up even trying to understand him.

"Pass through, pass through," sang Phantasos. "To see, to see all of your fears become reality."

The ivory gate before him swung open with an ominous thud.

Hades stared into the black oblivion before him. He had no time to waste. Hermione needed him and he would not fail her. He refused to.

* * *

What sort of sick joke were his cousins playing?

Demos Oneiroi was a tricky place. It had no real shape or form, for it could be anything that resided within the minds of mortals.

He had been prepared to be confronted with the most fearsome of creatures and horrible nightmares.

However, he was met with none of the above and instead thrown into a rather plush leather chair with a gaudy zebra print design.

Neon lights raced across the ceiling and walls while scantily clad women with enhancements that could only be thought up in the mind danced before him on an elevated stage.

"Oh hell yes!"

The dark god scowled as he stared at the man sitting next to him getting a rather vigorous lap dance from a woman that looked disturbingly like his precious Persephone. A growl escaped his throat as he watched hands begin to trace down curves only he had ever had the pleasure of touching to rest firmly upon the smooth skin of her hips.

Sapphire eyes twinkled with thinly veiled amusement as a smirk appeared on his lips.

"Fuck she's so hot! No wonder you took her for your own," he said in a voice heavy with lust.

Hades fought to throttle the male. This was not real.

"But it sure feels real!" he taunted! He cupped a breast firmly. "Want a grope so you can compare?"

The dark God growled as he physically lunged towards the gloating man, prepared to rip him limb from limb, only to find himself sprawled on the ground.

"You should get up."

Somewhat disoriented from his fall, he rolled rather quickly to avoid being trampled by a crowd of people as they bustled across the wide walkway of what looked to be a busy area in New York city.

Hades stared up at his cousin who looked rather relaxed as he sipped a steaming cup of coffee from his position at a comfortable looking chair of a Starbucks.

"You know? Mortals have it good. What I wouldn't give for a real Green Tea Latte."

Pulling himself to the unoccupied seat, Hades sent a dark glare at the other God.

"Oh calm down cousin, I was merely having a bit of fun. Centuries of blood and gore can wear on guy."

Hades took the time to fully observe the infamous God of Nightmares. He had most certainly changed from the last time he had seen him. Then again, that was nearly a millennia ago.

He looked disturbingly like a regular young man with his dirty blonde hair and wide sapphire eyes. His smile was absolute bliss as he continued to inhale his drink with a look of absolute euphoria.

"So? Why did you come to visit me?"

Must they really play this game? Phoebetar knew exactly why he was here. As soon as he entered this domain, he had access to his every thought.

"Indulge me cousin," he said with a wry grin.

"My daughter is having nightmares."

Phoebetar snorted into his cup. "Because she's pretty fucked up!"

Hades sneered at his crass words. He was sounding more and more like the decrepit youth of society with each passing moment.

"You're such a snob," said Phoebetar. "I'm simply evolving with time. You should try it."

"Will you be able to help me or am I wasting my time?"

"Well you certainly don't beat around the bush, but that is what I like about you Hades."

The dark God didn't reply and continued to stare at his cousin.

"Hermione needs to talk."

Lips pulled up into a disdainful sneer and were about to deliver a cutting remark before he found himself laying upon a worn pea green couch with his idiotic cousin sitting in a chair at his side like a poor imitation of Freud.

Scribbling nonsense on a thick pad of paper, Phoebetar lowered his thin wire spectacles and smiled toothily.

"Talking with your daughter will help her push through fears and confront her demons," he said in a thick German accent.

Hades sat up, glaring darkly at the other immortal. "Do you think we have not tried that? She hasn't truly woken up yet. How can we speak to her if she's not even coherent?"

At this Phoebetar's smile turned feral. "Who said anything about speaking to her in the Underworld?

And suddenly Hades knew what he needed to do. The question was what he would have to give in return in order to enter Hermione's nightmare and speak with her subconscious.

"How about a go with your wife?"

This time, Hades was actually able to wrap his hands around his cousin's neck before he was violently thrown back.

"Chill out cousin. It was just a joke."

Hades wasn't amused. If anything, he was even more angry.

"If your wife is off limits, how about Hermione," he said with a leering grin. "That little girl of yours is sex on legs."

Again, Hades found himself thrown back violently as he made for another lunge at his cousin.

"Dude," said Phoebetar, "seeing you smack against that couch will never get old."

"Phoebetar," he said warningly.

Make no mistake. He may only be like a mortal in this realm, but he would find a way to drag Phoebetar from Demos Oneiroi and extract his revenge. Slowly.

The other God seemed to sense Hades sinister mood as his smile dropped. Hades was not someone to mess with and he knew that, but he really couldn't resist. It had been so long since he had another immortal playmate besides Phatasos – the crazy fucker – and Morpheus – the sanctimonious fucker.

"An unlimited supply of green tea lattes."

The dark God had been prepared for a plethora of disturbing demands, yet nowhere on his mental list did he include green tea lattes.

"Excuse me?"

"Did I stutter? I want green tea lates!"

"Did we not just visit a Starbucks?" asked Hades.

Phoebetar sighed. "Hades. This is Demos Oneiroi. I can manipulate this, but you know was well as I that nothing is ever real. I may be able to conjure a very convincing branch of Starbucks and order my own version of ambrosia, but it will never be the genuine article."

"You want me to be your supplier of green tea lates?"

"You supply me with the goods and I'll take you to Hermione myself."

The dark God was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. If his cousin wanted lattes in return for his daughters recovery, he'd give him lattes.

"Very well. I agree."

"Great, so…"

A dark brow rose as he waited for Phoebetar to voice his obvious question.

"Once Hermione is recovered, do you think she'd be interested in going out for a latte?"

Hades merely clenched his fists in order to curb the urge to throttle his cousin again.

* * *

 **AN:** I would just like to clarify that Hermione, Harry and Ron do NOT have a romantic relationship going on. I always thought that with everything they had gone through together since their first year would solidify a very strong bond that surpasses friendship. They're close, practically brothers and sister.

Phoebetar wasn't what you were expecting were you? Honestly, neither was I.

I could have gone with some psychological thriller sort of character, but I thought this crude womanizing arrogant arse was a lot more interesting. Plus, it lightened up the story a bit and offered a bit of humor for what is shaping up to be a more serious story.

Comments or suggestions?

Review?

\- Banana Flavored Eskimo


	7. AN

Just a quick AN – sorry not an update.

For those that are noticing my spelling and grammatical errors – because I know I do – thanks for pointing them out. I also read over my work and cringe at times because I am like, wow you're an idiot for not seeing that when you checked over your writing.

However, I'm human so I'll cut myself some slack and throw out an offer to anyone out there.

Would someone like to beta read my work? I have a lot of stories. So if you're up for the job PM me.

As for the small details regarding names and small bits having to do with canon VS. AU, well I understand that I changed some things around and have already made MAJOR corrections thanks to waterflower20 with Percy's mom's name and his eye color, but if you do see other corrections that don't quite follow either HP or PJ canon, ignore them.

I probably did that because I wanted to, or I am filling in a blank because I don't quite remember or know what happened in that point in the series.

I would also love to hear your ideas about how to make this story develop. Need more of that.

Anyways, thanks for reading… or skimming at the very least.

\- Banana Flavored Eskimo


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